


And the Great Maker Said "Let There Be Cats"

by traveller19



Series: Hold Back the River AU [2]
Category: Babylon 5
Genre: Cats, F/M, Gen, Humor, Londo may or may not have finally met his match
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 15:07:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11534745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traveller19/pseuds/traveller19
Summary: Londo has a problem; Ivanova has a solution.  No one appreciates good flarn anymore.





	And the Great Maker Said "Let There Be Cats"

**Author's Note:**

> This work takes place in the universe established in "Hold Back the River", but it is not necessary to have read that fic before reading this one. Within the timeline of the show, it takes place somewhere around the beginning of Season 4. Thanks to jenniferstolzer for editing!

Commander Susan Ivanova was having one of _those_ days. First, no less than three of her junior command staff had called in sick with a stomach bug. Then, she had been screamed at – literally _screamed_ at – by a freighter captain for a full fifteen minutes when he had been kept waiting because an emergency medical transport had needed the docking bay. So when Zack Allan’s somewhat apprehensive voice raised her on the link, her heart sank to her shoes.

“Uh, Commander? We’ve got a problem.”

“What kind of problem, Mister Allan? A little problem or a big problem?”

“Uh, I suppose that kinda depends on how you look at it.”

Ivanova gave a long-suffering sigh. She was _not_ in the mood for this. “Mister Allan, is someone’s life in danger?”

“I’d have to say…yes.”

She sat up a little straighter. “Care to clarify?”

“Yeah. Uh…mine?”

A sudden piercing, inhuman screech blasted through the link. Ivanova came close to sticking her fingers in her ears. “Zack, what the hell was that?”

“The problem.”

 

***********************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

“Zack, how the HELL did THAT get on the station?”

Zack winced at the ferocity radiating from Ivanova. He didn’t like that she was glaring at _him_ rather than at the twitching, overturned vegetable crate in front of them. It wasn’t that he wasn’t used to her being like this. Whether or not someone was on Ivanova’s good side was touch-and-go on a good day. And he didn’t know for sure, but if he was going to go out on a limb, he’d say she wasn’t having a good day today. “If I had to guess, I’d say it probably stowed away on that freighter that just docked. Man, was that captain _pissed_.”

“ _Him_.” Ivanova’s eyes narrowed. “He has it out for me, Zack. He did this just to make me mad.”

“I…don’t think that’s possible.” 

Ivanova’s glare intensified. Zack threw up his hands in surrender. “But what do I know? I’m just a lowly security chief.”

Ivanova heaved a massive sigh and redirected her attention to The Problem. 

What The Problem actually _was_ was a big, fluffy tabby cat. Zack had first seen it running out from between some shipping crates in the docking bay where the freighter was unloading. By the time he could get the ship captain’s attention, the still-fuming man was already back in his ship. So Zack had made a grab for the cat, and narrowly avoided having both of his eyes clawed out when it turned into a screaming ball of fur and fury. He had no idea what to do. But as chief of security, he couldn’t just let it run around the station and cause chaos. And he couldn’t just space the poor thing - he was an at least halfway decent person at least - but first he’d had to catch it. So he’d snuck up behind it and trapped it under a crate that was designed for transporting vegetables (and so had ventilation holes). The cat had yowled indignantly, and continued to do so from then on.

Zack and Ivanova looked now through the small holes in the crate. One paw shot through the little opening, razor-sharp claws fully extended. It batted wildly at the air, as though it were trying to take its anger out on anything that might be within reach. Zack flinched backward.

“The question is,” said Ivanova slowly, not taking her eyes off of the crate, “what do we do with it?”

“Don’t look at me.” Zack shook his head emphatically. “I’m allergic to cats. They make me sneeze. It is _not_ coming home with me.”

Ivanova glared at him again, but Zack held fast this time. He was taking his life in his hands, he knew. His will weakened with it took to hold her gaze, but once she looked away, he knew he had won. Finally.

“I guess I can take it for a little while. Just until we find a home for it.”

“Here on the station?”

“I don’t know. It’s NOT staying long. I don’t have time for a cat. I don’t have time for MYSELF.”

“That’s fair. So…I’ll be on my way, then?”

Ivanova sighed. She stared at the cat, and it stared back, unblinking. “Yeah. I guess.”

“Thanks, Commander. Good luck. Bye, kitty.”

The cat hissed. Zack walked more quickly than normal out of the docking bay.

 

***************************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

Marcus Cole watched in amusement as his friend Vir Cotto sliced through the soft, quivering greenish block on his plate with a forced look of enthusiasm. The Centauri speared the piece he had cut off of his meal on the tip of his fork and held it up to the light to examine it, likely trying to delay having to ingest it for as long as possible. When he had waited as long as was socially acceptable, he stuck it into his mouth and chewed slowly, forcing the most agonized-looking smile Marcus had ever beheld.

“It’s good!” He announced through a mouthful of green comestible. “What did you say it was called again?”

“It is flarn,” said Lennier in his classic matter-of-fact way. “Amongst my people, it is traditionally served to honor visiting guests. However, since I am visiting you in your quarters, I found it…unnecessary to observe the standard ritual in which one does not sleep for the two days surrounding the meal and takes only bread and water during that time. I hope you do not mind.”

“That sounds like a…less than enjoyable ritual, so not at all.” Vir sliced off another tiny piece of flarn with painstaking slowness.

“I am glad you like it. I have found that most non-Minbari do not enjoy the taste of flarn. Captain Sheridan certainly does not.”

Marcus stifled a snicker. He was well aware of _that_ story. 

Vir clearly noticed Marcus’s repressed laughter.

“Marcus, had you tried flarn before tonight?”

“Of course! I had it many times during my training on Minbar.”

“And do _you_ like it?” Vir’s voice was heavy with suggestion.

Marcus smiled just as wide as he possibly could. “Love it.”

Vir looked like he wanted to glower at Marcus and his smug tone, but could not with Lennier sitting right there. Marcus just grinned at him and popped another piece of flarn into his mouth, donning his very well-rehearsed face that suggested he very much enjoyed the soft, oddly spicy rectangular prism the Minbari were so fond of.

“I am so glad you seem to enjoy the flarn as much as I enjoyed the spoo you made last week, Vir,” said Lennier. “Anyway, I think I will have some more. Would either of you like seconds?” He pushed his chair back from the table and stood. 

Marcus smiled at his Minbari friend. “I’m quite all right, thank you, Lennier.”

“Same,” added Vir. “I…had a big lunch. Thanks, though.”

Lennier dipped his head slightly and took his plate over to the counter where a large casserole dish full of flarn sat.

As soon as he had turned his back, Vir leaned forward and whispered frantically to Marcus. “This stuff is terrible and you know it.”

Marcus’s eyes widened, making him look completely innocent. “Vir! I’m surprised at you. How dare you suggest I don’t enjoy this food our dear friend has so painstakingly crafted for us?”

“You didn’t enjoy the spoo I so painstakingly crafted for last week’s movie night, either.”

“That obvious, huh? I guess I have to work on my acting skills.”

“But what do I do?”

“Do you want to offend him?”

Vir glanced desperately at Lennier, who was happily loading up his plate with flarn.

“Of course not!” he hissed, flashing his pointed canines. “Lennier’s the nicest person I’ve ever met. I don’t want to hurt his feelings.”

“Then eat the flarn. I’m doing it.”

Vir sighed helplessly as Lennier returned to the table. Lennier smiled, and the Centauri quickly stuck another bite of flarn inside his mouth and did his best to smile back. He was saved from further conversation, however, by the beeping of his BabCom unit. Vir looked relieved until the unit’s robotic voice spoke.

_“Incoming call from Londo Mollari.”_

“You’ve _got_ to be kidding me. This is my night off. He _knows_ this is my night off. Is the world ending? No. The world is not ending. Why does he want to talk to me? Maybe the world _is_ ending.” Vir sighed and stood up. “I’m sorry. I really ought to take this.”

Marcus and Lennier gave him small, sympathetic smiles as he walked over to the screen on the wall.

“Receive.” He sounded resigned. Marcus couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy, a sentiment which increased in magnitude when the ambassador’s annoyed expression appeared on the screen.

“Vir! Good. I need you. _Now_.”

“But Londo, it’s my night off!” Vir protested. “I have guests.”

“Oh.” There was a hint of remorse in Londo’s voice. “I am sorry – I forgot.” Something out of view of the three friends seemed to catch his gaze, and he jumped sideways as though attempting to get away from it.

He looked uncomfortable enough that Vir appeared genuinely concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“Those _things_ , those parasites! They are back in my quarters! I thought I had driven them out but they bred, Vir! And now they have evolved and they are even bigger than they were before! If something is not done soon, I will be overrun! They will come looking for me tomorrow morning and I will be but a skeleton on the floor, my flesh having been completely ingested by these…these _vermin_!”

A faint slithering noise could be heard off screen, and Londo uttered a disgusted “huuueeeaaaa!” and jumped a little bit. Marcus saw Vir wince, and next to him Lennier made a face.

“Can’t you just call maintenance?”

“I tried. It is after hours, and they will not come until at least tomorrow morning.”

Vir squared his shoulders. He looked proud at being needed. “Okay. I’m on my way.”

“Are you sure? I do not wish to interrupt your evening with your friends.”

Vir glanced back and Marcus and Lennier, both of whom smiled encouragingly.

“It’s fine. Really.”

“Thank you, Vir. You are a good man. I will see you soon. _Very_ soon.” Londo looked at his feet and then jumped again just as the camera cut off. Vir groaned and looked up at the ceiling, as though he was imploring the Great Maker, or one of the other forty-eight Centauri gods, for strength.

“I have to go. I’m really sorry about this.”

“That’s all right,” Marcus reassured him. “We’ll just watch tonight’s movie next week.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Vir sighed and turned to Lennier. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to finish the flarn. Thank you for making it.”

“Not to worry. I can leave the leftovers with you! It reheats very well. Just cook it over low heat for about five minutes.” Lennier stood and put on the outermost layer of his robe, which he had shed upon entering Vir’s quarters. Minbari were acclimatized to the cold and kept their quarters at a very low temperature, but Centauri were quite the opposite. Vir had a special, very fluffy blue blanket that he kept in Lennier’s quarters for when movie nights were held there.

Vir looked as though he was going to try to pin the flarn back on Lennier, but stopped when the Minbari continued. 

“Even though it was short, I very much enjoyed our time together tonight, as I always do. Thank you for your hospitality, Vir. Good night.” He triangled his hands and bowed.

Marcus watched Vir’s resolve melt, and he knew that at least one more effort on the part of the Centauri to eat the flarn would be put in at some point. Lennier by his very nature inspired others to want to make him happy – it probably had something to do with the genuine selflessness with which he approached everyone and everything. Well, most of the time.

Marcus also bid Vir a good night, and the three of them left the little quarters. Vir headed down the hall to Londo’s quarters, looking ever so slightly beaten down, while Marcus and Lennier headed in the other direction. They walked in silence for about a minute when Marcus noticed his friend looked troubled. A twinge of worry throbbed in his stomach. Lennier had been through quite a lot over the past year or so and did not deserve to endure any more unhappiness. So if something was bothering him, Marcus wanted to help. He stopped walking, and Lennier stopped next to him. 

“What’s the matter, Lennier?”

Lennier studied the floor for a moment before responding softly, his voice full of sadness, “Vir liked the flarn.”

Marcus furrowed his brow. “I thought you would be happy about that.”

Lennier met his gaze, looking despondent. “I know I ought to be. Flarn does take quite a long time to make, even if one does not follow the proper ritual. I should be thrilled that my friends appreciate the results of my hard work. But, if I am to be completely honest, I was rather hoping Vir would not like the flarn.”

“Why?” Marcus grew more confused by the moment. This tended to happen when he talked to Lennier too much. The little Minbari had a way of crafting his words in just the right way so that what he said was as confusing as possible. Marcus found it to be a combination of endearing and frustrating.

Lennier sighed and looked almost overwhelmingly guilty. “Because I _hated_ the spoo he made last week.”

 _Aha_. Marcus was beginning to understand now. “But you told Vir you loved the spoo.”

“Because I didn’t want to offend him!” exclaimed Lennier. “Vir has always been so wonderfully kind to me, and I think he put just as much work into making the spoo as I did into making the flarn. And he just seemed so happy when I told him I was enjoying it…I could not bear to tell him the truth. I lied to spare his feelings, so that is permissible.” He sounded as though he were trying to convince himself.

Marcus barely stifled his laughter. “I do not believe I’ve ever met two people better matched as friends than the two of you, did you know that?”

Now it was Lennier’s turn to look confused. “I am afraid I do not understand…”

Marcus slipped a hand behind his friend’s back and began to guide him forward. “Never mind. It’s all right; I don’t like spoo, either.”

And with that, Marcus made a mental note to cancel all future potlucks for movie night. From now on, it was pizza only.

 

**************************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

Ambassador Londo Mollari all but leaped to his feet at the ringing of the door chime, realizing too late that this was a mistake. A vastly sleepless night had left him exhausted and moving slowly that morning. He had lain uncomfortably in his bed, which normally felt pleasingly plush and soft. But every time he had been on the verge of nodding off, he had heard one of those damned _things_ scurrying around again. Or at least, he had _thought_ he had heard it. But that was enough.

“Commander!” he exclaimed with his usual enthusiasm as Susan Ivanova stepped over the threshold of his quarters, carrying a large, handled box with small holes in the side. “Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to see me today. Would you like some brivari?” He headed over to the wet bar and removed two glasses and the decanter from the shelf.

“Londo, it’s oh-nine hundred. Also, I’m on duty.”

“Ah. Perhaps some hot jala, then?”

“That’s also alcohol.” Her tone was matter-of-fact.

“You human military types never have any fun. In Centauri culture, everyone is allowed to drink on the job.”

Ivanova raised an eyebrow. “And how does that go?”

“Better than you might expect.” Londo poured himself a glass of brivari and took a fortifying swig. If today was to be anything like yesterday, he would need the strength order to survive it.

Ivanova shook her head as if to clear it of the strange information he had just imparted upon her. “I understand you’re having an infestation problem?”

All right. If she wanted to get right down to business, then he would, too. “Ah, yes. They are everywhere, and I can get no response out of _your_ maintenance department. Now, I understand that they are busy, and they cannot be faulted for not getting back to me right away…”

“Londo, you called them thirty minutes ago.”

“Yes, and I think that was ample time for them to get over here and get rid of…whatever these _creatures_ are.”

Ivanova closed her eyes and sighed.

“Commander? You look frustrated. Is everything all right?”

Ivanova spoke through gritted teeth. “Yes, Londo. Everything is great. It’s _just_ great.” She forced herself to relax. “Okay. For some reason, this seems to be a recurring problem with your quarters specifically. So, we’re going to try a little bit of an unconventional approach.” 

Scratching and shuffling noises came from inside the box at Ivanova’s feet.

“Commander?” He asked, his eyebrows shooting upward in concern. “I do not think you have quite understood my dilemma. There are creatures in my quarters that are not supposed to be here. I need you to get _rid_ of them, not contribute to the problem by adding more. And forgive me if I have misjudged the situation, but it seems as though there is something… _alive_ in that box.”

“That would be correct.” Despite Londo’s protests, the Commander opened the box, and stepped backward. After several seconds, a furry animal stepped out, looking hesitant and sniffing the floor and air around it with each calculated movement.

“Aha! I know what this is! Commander, why have you brought an Earth duck into my quarters?”

Ivanova momentarily furrowed her brow in confusion, and then laughed aloud.

“Wrong animal, Londo. This is a cat, not a duck.”

“Commander, I assure you that I have it on good authority that this is not a cat. Cats have feathers and say ‘quack’.”

“That’s a duck.”

“ _No_ , it is a…that is a duck?”

She nodded, a mixture of amusement and exaggerated patience on her face.

“Oh. That Vir, always getting things mixed up. I need to have a word with him about researching things thoroughly before he shares them.”

Ivanova laughed, and Londo laughed with her. The frustration seemed to have vanished from her face, or at least temporarily. Warmth spread through Londo’s chest at the knowledge that he had helped.

“So this…cat, then. It will help with my vermin problem?”

“On Earth, cats sometimes live in barns, where they kill mice and other small creatures to keep them away from the animal feed. Other cats are house pets. This could be a combination of the two.”

“A ‘house pet’?”

“A companion animal. They can be really nice to have around – some humans have very strong bonds with their pets. Stroking a cat’s fur can be very soothing. But you are also responsible for taking care of it – that means making sure it has food and water, and cleaning up after it.”

“You may show Vir all that needs to be done.”

Ivanova shook her head. “Oh, no. If you want to bond with it, you need to take care of it yourself.”

Londo snorted. “Commander, I am Centauri Prime Minister. Don’t you think such duties are a _little_ beneath me?” What she was suggesting was the job of a servant. In fact, he felt a little bad asking Vir to do it, but there was no one else.

Ivanova chuckled darkly. “You could be the ruler of the entire universe, Londo, but to a cat, you are a servant, created to cater to its every desire and nothing else.”

Londo studied the little creature, who had stopped exploring for the time being and was now sitting in the middle of his five hundred year old heirloom throw rug. It licked its paw and ran it over its face in a perfectly cool and controlled manner.

“That is a very Centauri attitude. This cat and I might get along after all. All right, Commander, I will humor this little whim of yours. Tell me what I need to do.”

Ivanova smiled as though she had just accomplished some great nefarious plot. Londo was not quite sure what to make of that look.

After the Commander had instructed Londo in basic cat care, she left, saying that she would retrieve the cat’s supplies from her quarters and leave them with Vir. Londo thanked her, and once she was gone, he turned his attention to the small furry animal that suddenly lived with him. The creature had moved to the dining table, where it sat upright, its long tail appendage curled tightly around its front feet. It stared at Londo with wide, unblinking eyes. The effect was unnerving.

“What?” asked Londo, irritated. The cat just continued to stare. Londo narrowed his eyes and stared back for as long as he could. When his corneas began to burn unbearably, he yelled “BOO!” at the top of his lungs. The cat finally blinked, but did not move. Londo decided to try another approach.

“All right. Commander Ivanova said that you are supposed to stroke the fur of a cat. What do you think of that, hmm?”

He approached the creature and reached out toward it. But before he could touch the cat, it opened its mouth to reveal pointed fangs that rivaled those of even the most well-endowed Centauri, and emitted a hissing noise that made Londo jump.

“I am not sure what that means, but I think perhaps we will wait with the fur-stroking for awhile, hmm? Let you get settled in, I think. Please, if you see any vermin, feel free to have a snack.”

The cat settled down into a crouched position. Londo had planned to work at his table, but in light of the cat having set up shop there, he moved to the couch. Every time he looked up for the next several hours, the cat was staring at him, with vermin scuttling quietly just out of sight.

 

*******************************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

Londo had just finished lunch when Vir stumbled into his quarters, burdened by a rather large collection of cat supplies. He managed to set them on the floor just in time to prevent the entire stack from tumbling to the ground. He then looked around briefly before his gaze settled on the cat, who was still sitting on the table.

“So…that’s the cat, then?” he asked, studying the creature curiously.

“Yeeeees.” Londo drew out the word pedantically. “Do you see any other small furry creatures in my quarters?”

“I only mean I’ve never seen one before,” said Vir, sounding slightly flustered. “It…it’s kind of cute.”

“Cute? Pah. It is not so cute when it has been staring nonstop at you for the past four hours, believe me.”

“Can I pet it?” Vir looked like a small child begging his parents to be allowed just a few more minutes before being sent to bed. The prospect of touching the fluffy creature had reduced him to a pathetic embarrassment. But it was, Londo had to admit, strangely adorable in its own right.

“You can try. But I did not have much luck in getting it to allow me to touch it.”

Vir slowly reached out.

“Hello, cat. My name is Vir, and I want to be your friend. I promise I won’t hurt you, I just want to say hello…”

His hand got a couple of inches closer than Londo’s had, but then the cat’s mouth opened, its fangs flashed, and sound of its hiss filled the room.

“That did not sound happy,” said Vir sadly.

“No,” agreed Londo, “but the Commander said humans commonly have strong bonds with their pets. It is now my cat, and I am its Centauri. So surely we should be on better terms, should we not?”

“I don’t think it thinks like that, Londo,”

“Well, what does it think, then?”

“I…don’t know,” Vir admitted. “When she dropped off the supplies, Commander Ivanova told me that humans have tried for centuries to understand the feline mind. It has been a favorite topic of many of their scientists over the years.”

“Why, I wonder?” mused Londo. “What is to be gained from it? Do humans truly see that much of themselves in these creatures?” While his words and tone were skeptical and judgmental, Londo secretly wanted the cat to like him, or at least to allow him to touch it. The Commander’s description of having a nice furry creature to stroke sounded very appealing to him.

“Perhaps I need to earn its trust and affection,” he wondered aloud. “But how?”

“Food!” exclaimed Vir. “Or…that works with me, anyway.”

“A good thought,” Londo said. Vir beamed under Londo’s praise. “We will try that. What did the Commander supply you with to feed it?”

“I don’t remember for sure. Do you think it would eat flarn?”

Londo furrowed his brow. “ _What_ is _flarn_?”

Vir shook his head. “Never mind.” He rummaged through the pile of supplies. “This is it – this awful looking dry stuff. ‘Kibble’, I think she called it. I ate one. It tasted terrible. I can’t imagine anyone or anything wanting to eat this.”

“Maybe that is why she is so optimistic it will take care of my vermin problem,” said Londo, picking up a handful of the small, brown pellets and sniffing at them disgustedly. “She said cats believe they are royalty. I do not think even peasants would be content to eat this…this…whatever this is. Or at least not the peasants of Centauri prime. But I suppose it is worth a try, anyway.”

He laid some kibble on the table in front of the cat, moving slowly to avoid any potential damage to his hand. The cat lowered its head, sniffed at the food, and began to nibble. As the cat was distracted by its snack, Londo tried to touch it again. The creature’s head shot up, and it hissed once more.

“All right,” said Londo, turning to Vir, who looked a little worried. “We will just have to try something else.”

Vir squinted, deep in thought. “Commander Ivanova didn’t say anything else about bonding with a cat. She just told me that you’re supposed to feed it and clean up after it.”

Londo angled his hands so that the tips of his fingers pointed to his own chest. “Oh, _I_ am, am I? This again.” He sighed. “All right. Why don’t you go and research the human databases for ways to bond with your cat? I will give it some more food to see if it changes its mind.”

“Yes, Londo.” Vir went off to do his assigned work, and Londo continued tossing kibbles at the cat. Every time his hand got close, the cat hissed. But though he grew more disappointed with every hiss, Londo felt his resolve increasing. He would win this. He would.

“I think I’ve found something!” announced Vir after a few minutes. Londo paused his endeavors to win the cat’s affections through food and went to look over his attaché’s shoulder. Vir’s data pad was running a video clip of a human waving in a random manner what appeared to be a piece of cloth made to vaguely resemble an Earth mouse and tied to a string. A cat, who looked much happier than the one currently sitting on Londo’s dining table, watched the toy with great concentration, moving its eyes back and forth in time with the motions of the cloth. Suddenly, it launched itself into the air and caught the toy in its mouth, looking rather pleased with itself.

“Apparently cats like to play,” Vir commentated. “Look at that, Londo! Isn’t it cute?” His eyes were almost as wide as those of the stimulated cat on the video – he looked positively smitten. Londo rolled his eyes, but secretly he could not help but agree with Vir a little bit.

“I am sure I can produce something similar to that. What a chore cat ownership is turning out to be,” he grumbled as he rummaged through his drawers until he managed to produce a spare bit of string and scrap of cloth.

“It does not look like anything you might find tasty,” he told the cat as he knotted the pieces together. “But it will have to do.”

Wonderful. Now he was talking to it. The cat afforded him one long, slow blink.

Londo wiggled the toy as he had seen in the video. The cat watched it nonchalantly for a few seconds, then stretched out one paw and batted lazily at it.

“I think it’s working!” exclaimed Vir. “Keep doing that, Londo!”

Londo felt a grin spreading across his face. He would get this stubborn creature to like him yet. But then the cat yawned, jumped off the table, and wandered away.

“Well _fine_ then. Be that way.” Londo imitated the hissing noise the cat had been making at him all morning. 

Vir looked crestfallen. “I really thought you’d done it there for a minute.”

“Pah,” grumbled Londo. “It does not matter. I do not need affection or attention from a simple beast. I have too many things to do.” He grabbed the data pad he had been using and sat down at the now-vacated dining table to work. It should have been easier, now that the cat was not staring at him. But, deep down in his hearts, Londo could not help but wish he had succeeded in winning the little animal’s affections.

 

**********************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

Once Vir had gone back to his own quarters to get some work done, Londo had assumed he would be alone to work for the rest of the day. He had thoroughly not expected G’Kar to show up at his quarters that day, and yet the Narn stood at the threshold to Londo’s door, a wide and amused smile covering his spotted face.

“And what is it _you_ want?” 

Now, that’s no way to greet a guest, Mollari,” said G’Kar, waggling a gloved finger at him.

“An uninvited guest, perhaps,” muttered Londo, but he stepped away from the entrance anyway. “Fine, come in. Close the door behind you.” He went over to the wet bar to pour himself another drink. This was turning into a multi-drink day.

G’Kar obliged. “In answer to the question of what I want, I am merely here to see if the rumors are true.”

“Rumors? What rumors?” Londo downed his entire glass in one swig. Well, that wouldn’t do it. He needed more. Dealing with Narns required several drinks.

“That you have a small, furry Earth animal living in your quarters!” exclaimed G’Kar. When G’Kar got excited, it usually meant Londo was about to become miserable. But, funnily enough, he still enjoyed seeing the Narn happy. Not that he would _ever_ admit this to G’Kar, who strutted about his quarters, searching for his new pet. “When Commander Ivanova told me she had given you a – what did she call it? A ‘cat’, I believe – I almost did not believe her. I said ‘Londo Mollari, caring for an animal? I must go and see it for myself.’”

“Believe whatever you like, G’Kar,” said Londo with a wave of his hand. “The creature is around here somewhere…ah, there.” He located the cat, which was now sitting on top of the couch, watching the two of them with a bored expression on its face. “It is meant to help take care of my vermin problem, although I have not seen it doing any hunting all day. And it does not allow its fur to be stroked like most cats apparently do. I believe it is defective. I am considering sending it back to Commander Ivanova.”

“What, for a refund on her generous gift?” G’Kar rolled his eyes. “Have you ever considered that maybe it just does not like you?”

Londo felt the tiniest bit of a pang in his stomach at the insult, good-natured though it was. “Vir tried as well and received the same response. If you reach your hand too close to it, it makes this angry hissing noise.”

“I would do the same, if someone tried to touch my head without permission. And probably far worse,” G’Kar agreed. “Maybe it is not specifically you, then. Perhaps it does not like Centauri?”

“Oh, so it is a racist cat, is that it?” said Londo with heavily exaggerated patience.

“It is possible,” replied G’Kar. “I have heard that if an animal has had experience with someone who looks a certain way, it will forever avoid the those who look like that person.”

“All right, then. Test your theory.” Londo gestured grandly toward the cat. “See if it will allow you to touch it.”

“With pleasure!” G’Kar approached the cat slowly and held out his gloved hand. The cat leaned forward and sniffed it. Londo could not deny the disappointment he felt, especially when G’Kar grinned.

“Do you see, Mollari? It has accepted me, and we are fr… YEOWWWWWW!”

The Narn howled as the cat attached itself to his arm, four sets of claws and one set of very pointed teeth sinking through the soft leather of the glove. G’Kar raised his arm above his head, the cat’s entire body coming with it, and shook it. But still the creature clung on, a low growl rumbling in its throat. Londo watched with pure glee. Finally, G’Kar gave his arm the mightiest of shakes and dislodged the cat, who went running off to dive under the bed.

“It does not like Centauri, hmm?” Londo cackled into his drink. “Well, if that is true, then I would say it likes Narn even less.” 

“That creature is a menace, and I cannot believe you are allowing it to live in your quarters. These were my best gloves!” G’Kar examined the accessories with a look of disbelief and anger on his face. There were several small puncture holes in the leather where blood welled through.

“The mighty Narn, wounded in battle. Stories will be told of this day!” Londo quietly hoped G’Kar’s wounds were not worse than they looked underneath the glove.

“Then surely they will also mention the Centauri observing the scene, who stood by as the mighty Narn bled and did nothing but laugh.”

“And they will laugh right along with me.” Londo set his drink aside and went to get G'Kar a wet cloth.

 

*************************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

The grumbling G’Kar left once his arm had stopped bleeding, and Londo went back to work reviewing trade reports. After a time, the cat ventured out from beneath the bed and went to resume its own work - sitting on the kitchen counter and staring at Londo some more. Londo tried to ignore it, but it proved very difficult. It was as though the creature were boring a hole into his skull with its eyes.

“WHAT?” He asked loudly. The cat twitched the very tip of its tail. The door chine rang.

“NOW what?” Londo grumbled, more quietly this time. Apparently it was not in the cards for him to get any work done that day. He sighed, resigned. “Come.”

The door swung open, and Lennier stepped over the threshold. The young Minbari handed Londo a data pad.

“Ambassador,” he greeted with a small bow. “Here are the notes you requested of Delenn from the last commerce meeting. She asked me to pass on to you the sentiment that in the future, it might perhaps be more efficient for you to attend the meetings yourself, rather than try to catch up on what was said in retrospect.”

Londo snorted, and almost replied with a sarcastic “Oh she did, did she?”. But he managed to restrain himself. He did not _think_ that the polite, calm Lennier would send a spinning kick straight into his face, but he did not particularly want to put that theory to the test.

“Thank you, Mister Lennier, and please tell Delenn thank you as well.”

“I will pass it along.” Lennier triangled his hands and bowed in typical pious Minbari fashion. As he turned to leave, his gaze came to rest upon the cat, who was still perched on the kitchen counter.

“Excuse me, Ambassador. I am assuming this is the Earth cat Vir mentioned?”

“That was fast,” muttered Londo, making a mental note to make sure Vir was keeping up with his work and not spending too much time in the bar chatting with his friends. Although Londo would be the first to admit that that was exactly what he wanted to be doing just then. “That would be the one,” he affirmed. “Do not try to touch it. That thing will take your eye out.” 

Lennier took a step backward, away from the creature, at those words, looking slightly disquieted. “Thank you for the warning. I will not attempt to lay hands on it. I merely wish to….look at it.”

“Well, it seems to be all right with that at least.” Londo watched the Minbari fold his hands and bow low and slowly at the animal, his eyes locked with the cat’s. The creature stared back at him, unblinking. The two stared at each other, as though Lennier were trying to discern the secrets of the universe just by studying the cat’s eyes. Or at least, that was what Londo imagined was happening – Minbari were always so concerned with that sort of thing.

After a good minute, Londo interrupted the Minbari’s reverie.

“Excuse me, Mister Lennier. Are you planning to spend all day staring at the cat, or do you not have duties to Ambassador Delenn that require your attention?”

Lennier stood up straight. “You are correct, of course. I must be getting back to work. Thank you, Ambassador.” He bowed to Londo once more, then turned to the cat and bowed to it again before leaving.

Londo shook his head incredulously. Minbari and cats. They were both strange creatures. Almost, one might say, meant for each other.

 

*********************************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

Lennier settled down at the table next to Delenn and picked up the pad of notes he was supposed to be reviewing. Try as he might to focus on his work, his mind kept wandering back to the creature he had encountered in Londo’s quarters. Religious Caste Minbari strove for a calmed state of being during their meditations – it was something they worked very hard to achieve – but the cat possessed a calmness that Lennier had never before observed. It was as though the cat were completely in control of everything that happened in that room, and it knew it.

“Delenn?”

“Hmmm?” She finished reading the sentence she had been on, and looked up.

“Do you know anything about cats?”

“Cats?” She furrowed her brow. “That is a bit of an odd question, Lennier.”

“Yes, I…I suppose it is. Forgive me for interrupting your work.”

“No, it is all right,” she reassured him. “I have been thinking about this report for far too many hours, anyway. I am well due a break, I think.” She paused, obviously thinking. “Cats…Earth creatures, yes? I do believe John mentioned them once. Similar to _gokkae_ , but smaller, and less reliably friendly. Or at least, that was what we mutually decided, him never having met a _gokk_ and I never having met a cat. Why do you ask?”

“Londo has one in his quarters.”

“Londo? An Earth cat? Really? Why?” She grew more incredulous – and more amused – with each subsequent inquiry.

“Apparently his quarters are infested with some kind of…small creatures. Vir told me Commander Ivanova said cats are good at catching and eating such things, but Londo has to care for it as well.”

Delenn giggled. “Londo coexisting with and caring for a cat is something I would very much like to see.”

“Why?” asked Lennier.

“Well…from what John told me, when a cat decides that something will be a certain way, it _will_ be that way, no matter what its caregiver wants. You can try and try to do things your own way, but in the end, the cat will win.”

Lennier furrowed his brow. “But…I do not understand. The animal I saw today did not seem capable of speech, nor brute force that could possibly compel someone of Londo’s size to do anything against their will.”

Delenn chuckled. “They do not need either of those things to get their way. A cat gets what it wants through sheer force of personality.”

 _Much like you,_ thought Lennier with admiration. “So you are saying that because Londo is always very set on getting what _he_ wants, he and the cat are likely to be at odds?”

“Exactly,” confirmed Delenn. “And I meant what I said – I would truly like to see this. In fact, I believe I will pay Londo a visit.”

“But what will you give as your reason for visiting?”

“The truth – or part of it, anyway. I will say that ever since John told me about them, I have wanted to meet a cat. This is not a lie – I find the idea of these creatures fascinating. And after my conversation with John, I looked up pictures of cats. They are quite adorable! Tell me, Lennier, was Londo’s cat very cute?”

“It was…pleasing to look at, yes,” affirmed Lennier, unable to repress a smile at Delenn’s enthusiasm. She clasped her hands together in excitement.

“Oh, good! I will go right now.” She got up from her chair and made to get ready to leave.

“Delenn, if I may ask…what does the Captain think about cats?”

Delenn’s expression took on a faraway quality as she thought back. “I believe he said he was more of a…oh, what were the words? A ‘dog person’.”

“A ‘dog person’?”

Delenn nodded, seeming surer of the memory now. “Yes. Dogs are another common Earth pet, and they are apparently quite different from cats. Dogs are loyal, nearly always friendly, and obey their owners without question. Cats do whatever they want, whenever they want.”

Lennier nodded. “Yes. Well, have a good time, Delenn.”

“Oh, I intend to,” she said, her gray eyes sparkling mischievously.

 

*********************************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

Londo nearly threw his data pad across the room when the door chime rang yet again. That was it. He was done. He would get absolutely no work accomplished today. So what if the entire Centarum was awaiting a report from him and likely judging him on his lack of proficiency in doing even such a simple task as writing it? No, no one cared about that. All anyone on this Maker-forsaken station cared about was a small, furry _creature_. A creature who appeared to hate him.

But he could not ignore the ringing of the chime. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back so he faced the ceiling.

“Come in,” he sighed. The door swung open, and whoever it was entered. His eyes still shut, Londo grumbled, “let me guess, you are here to see my personal feline sideshow attraction?”

“I was, actually!” Londo’s eyes shot open at the familiar, accented voice. It was full of enthusiasm today. He wished he shared the sentiment.

“Ah, Delenn. My apologies. It has been…a day of visitors. Some of them more annoying than others.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I am sure Lennier fell into the ‘less annoying category’?”

It was very clearly a question with a correct answer. Since he had complained, she felt obligated to ensure that her aide had not contributed to his discomfort. But Londo knew that if he made but a negative suggestion concerning Lennier, he would incur the full-blown wrath of what he had always suspected was one of the most powerful beings in the universe. He would keep her happy. Luckily for him, the correct answer was also the true one.

“Yes. He was definitely not the most annoying person to pass through that door today.”

She smiled. “Good. Now, ever since John told me about cats, I have wanted to meet one in person. They sound like such lovely and adorable creatures. I have to admit that I am envious of you for procuring one!”

Londo snorted. “’Lovely and adorable’ are two of the last words I would use to describe that tiny monster, Delenn. ‘Pure evil’ would be a more fitting moniker.”

Delenn made a face. “Londo! It is just a little animal. It cannot be evil.”

“Oh, really? It has attacked everyone who has approached it. It nearly took G’Kar’s arm off. So take care in interacting with it. If you get injured on my watch, I will have incurred the anger of both Captain Sheridan _and_ Lennier. One of those alone is dangerous enough. Both would most certainly be lethal.” He _hrmmph_ ed as he considered his own mortality.

Delenn ignored the last part of his comment, for she spotted the cat, who was sitting now on the short table in front of the couch. By the time Londo turned around in his seat at the dining table, Delenn was sitting on the floor, the cat lying calmly in her lap. A low, rumbling noise not unlike that of a contented lover emanated from the little creature. Its eyes were closed, its head tilted back in bliss as Delenn rubbed under its chin and stroked its soft fur.

“Hello, little cat. Have you had a difficult day, with moving into new quarters and getting to know all these new people? I imagine you have. But you are a nice cat. You are very friendly.”

The cat rumbled louder and tilted its head into Delenn’s hand as she scratched behind its ear. Londo’s jaw dropped and he stared at the scene before him. When he could finally speak, he found he could not form full sentences. “But…I…Delenn, _how_?”

“Patience and understanding, my friend,” she murmured, speaking quietly to avoid upsetting the animal in her lap. After several seconds, she gently placed the cat on the rug next to her and joined Londo at the dining table.

“Speaking of understanding, I imagine it must have been quite a frustrating day for you, Londo. All these visitors, and none to see you.”

Londo blinked in surprise. That was _exactly_ what he had been feeling all day. How could Delenn so easily drive to the very heart of someone’s motivation like that? For a moment, Londo felt unnerved, but one soft, caring look from Delenn changed that.

“Yes,” he conceded. “Yes, it has been. All anyone has wanted to see today was that cat.” He glared at the cat, who stared unblinkingly back.

“I know it is a difficult concept to embrace when you are just the tiniest bit jealous,” Delenn began, holding up a hand to silence Londo’s protests at the insinuation, “but have you considered that maybe you are looking at this the wrong way? You are such a wonderfully social person, Londo. Your personality lights up every room you walk into. You need an audience, and this cat has brought you one. Engage with the people it brings into your life. Keep trying to win the cat’s affections – let it be a conversation point between you and your friends. Rather than being grumpy about the cat, let your friends see _you_.”

She was right. He was _almost_ loath to admit it, because it meant admitting that he had been going about this whole day the wrong way. But Delenn’s earnest manner had a way of making even the great Londo Mollari swallow his pride.

“I suppose you are right, Delenn. Thank you.”

She smiled sweetly. Her gaze was diverted when the cat walked up to her and rubbed its body and tail on her leg, continuing to purr. Londo smiled congenially.

“Why am I not surprised that furry animals seem to like you?”

She looked at him, her face scrunching up before the expression gave way to laughter. And after a moment, Londo joined in.

 

**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

After a romantic dinner and a blissful round of kisses, John Sheridan could do little else besides stare at the love of his life. Delenn curled into him on his living room couch and sighed happily. Sheridan brushed his lips against the top of her ear. “This has been a wonderful evening.”

He could _hear_ the smile in her voice. “It has.” She rolled over to face him. “John, every day that I spend with you, the happier I am with my choice to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Sheridan’s heart did little flips inside his chest. “I feel the same way.”

“In fact,” Delenn continued, “I think we should start…what is the phrase you would use? ‘Putting down roots.’”

Sheridan raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean, exactly?”

The smile in her gray eyes lit up both her face and Sheridan’s heart. “I think we should adopt a cat.”

The bottom dropped out of Sheridan’s joy. “What?”

“Ever since you told me about them, I have wanted to meet one, and today I got to! What an adorable, lovely creature. I believe them to be capable of far more love and companionship than you attribute to them, John. They are so sweet, and lovely to stroke…”

“Wait, wait, wait,” he interrupted. She paused and regarded him with a devastating sweetness. “Okay, first of all, there’s a _cat_ on my station?”

“Yes! It belongs to Londo.”

“ _Londo?_ ”

“Yes. Susan gave it to him.”

“ _Susan?_ ”

Delenn giggled. “Are you just going to keep repeating the names I say, or is this conversation going to go somewhere eventually?”

Sheridan blinked incredulously. “I’m just trying to understand…how was I not aware of this? I’m not sure if I’m even okay with having a cat on my station.”

“You will very likely cause a diplomatic incident if you try to remove it,” Delenn warned.

Sheridan swallowed. “And…will I cause a different diplomatic incident if I say no to _you_ getting a cat?”

A rather confusing combination of mischief, severity, and affection layered Delenn’s voice and expression.

“John Sheridan, I do not think you want to find out the answer to that question.”

Sheridan sighed.

 

**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

Commander Susan Ivanova walked into Sheridan’s office the next day to find the captain looking vaguely troubled.

“Everything all right, Sir?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah.” He sat back in his chair. “It’s just…Delenn and I had a… _conversation_ last night.”

Ivanova raised an eyebrow. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Averted trouble in paradise. I hope. I’m certainly conceding enough for it.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

Sheridan heaved a very large sigh. “That cat you gave Londo?” Ivanova nodded. “Well, Delenn was completely taken with it, and last night she told me she wants a cat. I don’t like cats, and I had told her as much in the past.”

“Ah,” said Ivanova understandingly. “I see. So, what happened?”

“We compromised.”

Ivanova grinned widely. “You’re getting a cat.”

Sheridan laid his arms on the desk, rested his head on them, and groaned into the hardwood.

“We’re getting a cat.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to leave a comment and let me know what you thought of the story. I hope everyone enjoyed! :)


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